


Too Late To Be The First To Walk Away

by HarperJean



Series: Hotel Paper [3]
Category: Hanson (Band), Michelle Branch (Musician)
Genre: Bands, Closure, F/M, Musicians, Old Lovers, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 09:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12430350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarperJean/pseuds/HarperJean
Summary: Taylor and Michelle run into each other at an event years after the fateful phone call that ended their relationship.((This is a version of the last chapter of my full length fic "If Tomorrow Never Comes", requested by @areyouhappynowhanfic ))





	Too Late To Be The First To Walk Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areyouhappynowhanfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouhappynowhanfic/gifts).



“Hello?” 

“...Oh...hey, sorry I didn’t think you were gonna answer.”

“Well, here I am.”

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How’s Chicago?”

“It’s good. I went out with my band tonight, and then we have the show tomorrow.”

“Oh, nice.”

“Yeah.”

“So um...I need to talk to you.”

“I gathered as much. Sorry I forgot to text you back it kept...honestly it just kept slipping my mind.”

Taylor ran a shaking hand through his hair. He didn’t want to do this. He would give anything he had to be doing _anything_ else. 

“That’s okay I just um...I needed to make sure I got a hold of you today or else I would have lost my nerve.”

“...What?”

“So um...Natalie is pregnant.”

There was silence on the line. He was sure he could hear his own blood pumping through his veins. He didn’t like this feeling one bit. 

“Okay.” 

_That’s all she’s gonna fucking say?_ Taylor thought, a shimmering rage rising up to his skin. 

“It’s mine,” he said before he could stop himself. Obviously it was his, but he wanted more of a reaction. He wanted to press on the wound. He wanted her to match the pain he was going through. The total loss of control, the feeling that everything was spiraling. 

Again, silence. Taylor wished she was with him, in his bed. Not to do anything, just...just to hold her and cry into her hair. He felt pathetic. Pathetic and stupid. 

“Please say something, Michelle,” he pleaded. 

“So what are you going to do?” 

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna marry her.”

***

Taylor didn’t hear from Michelle for years after that cold, February morning. After the awkward phonecall, he hung up and cried until the sun came up, feeling utterly hopeless. He was woken up later by his older brother, bringing him a glass of water and a few aspirin and comforting him with a knowing look. Taylor fought the urge to start crying all over again.

He got married to Natalie, and the ceremony was small but lovely. They were surrounded by family and a few friends, the air in the small sanctuary hot and stuffy. But, Taylor had to admit that Natalie looked beautiful and hopeful, which made him feel okay. He was going to be okay. He kept telling himself that until he believed it. 

When Ezra arrived that October, he looked down at his tiny son and realized that he had never experienced love before that moment. He loved this little life in his arms more than anything in this world, and that made everything worth it. Sometimes, when he was alone with Ezra, messing around on the keys or mindlessly listening to the radio, he would have the urge to contact her, just to make sure she was still okay. He knew that she _was_ , because he kept up with her career as much as he could, be he wanted to hear it directly from her. He wanted to know how the rest of her tour went, how it felt to write her next album, how he could hear their whole story laid out so perfectly in the songs she had written. 

He figured she thought he would be mad about it but at the end of the day he was glad those songs existed. They proved that it was real. That it had happened. Lord knows he denied it enough for the both of them. 

He wasn’t expecting to ever see her again, even though he thought he had seen her a couple times on the streets of LA. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of a raven haired girl in the crowd at a Hanson show and he was convinced for a few songs that she was there. It was never her. But years after the fateful phone call, at an event in LA, Taylor saw her and subsequently felt his heart rate increase significantly. 

_This is wrong_ , he thought to himself. He was in a tux and his hair was perfectly coiffed. Natalie was on his arm and he had five children at home. It was as if Michelle, who was on the other side of the room, had been copy and pasted from a much different part of his life. A sloppier, grittier time when moments were still spontaneous and two teenagers who were playing at love could walk recklessly along the beach under grey skies. The woman he saw across the room looked almost nothing like the girl he knew in the early 2000’s, all wild spirit and quiet confidence and ripped jeans and a guitar slung across her body at all times. 

But he couldn’t deny she looked beautiful. 

He lost her in the crowd soon enough, and tried his best to turn his attention to dinner and his wife and the people he had been seated with. He made small talk and laughed at bad jokes. He shared looks with Natalie and she squeezed his knee supportively. He always wondered why they even bothered with charity balls like this, but he figured it was good to make appearances every once in awhile. His attention kept slipping, and he kept finding his eyes flitting over to the other side of the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ghost from his past. 

“I’m gonna get another drink, Nat. You want anything?” 

“No, I’m okay. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah...um yeah, I’m fine.” 

He knew he seemed skittish, and he also knew that she could see right through him. He would be hearing about this later, but for now, he just needed a drink to soothe his nerves. His feet carried him mindlessly to the bar, going on autopilot as he ordered his whiskey and turned around, finding himself face to face with…

“Michelle.” 

“Tay.” 

“How have you been?” _How have you been?_ Taylor silently berated himself. Out of all the things he could have said to her, all the flowery words he so effortlessly threw around in his daily life, he had blurted out _how have you been?_

“Good!” A blush rose to her cheeks. He smirked. She was nervous, too. “I’ve been really good. My husband Teddy is here somewhere, I would love...I would love for you to meet him.” Somehow her anxious energy calmed him down a bit. At least they were traversing this awkward moment together. 

“Yeah, Nat is back there. I guess you never actually met her.” 

“No I didn’t.” 

“Well you can come back to the table with me --” 

“Does she--?” 

“No.” 

He saw her heave a tiny sigh, obviously deciding to steer clear of his table and his wife. He couldn’t really blame her. 

“Oh...okay. Um…” she stuttered.

“You don’t have to though…”

“Okay. How are the babies?”

“They’re so great. God, I want to be the guy that pulls out his phone and shows you pictures of all of them, but I’ll spare you. Maybe next time. How’s Owen?”

“She’s so beautiful,” she said as she pulled out her phone and showed Taylor her lockscreen. 

“Whoa. She looks just like you.”

“Yeah, she’s my little mini-me. I love her.”

Michelle looked over her shoulder, searching for her husband. Taylor couldn’t shake the feeling that she was avoiding his direct gaze. 

“I should get back,” she said, her voice full of memory and regret. He wondered if it was as strange for her as it was for him for them to be together in this place that was so unlike his rental home or her apartment or his car or the studio. Sometimes he wished he could go back, but that was just his addiction to nostalgia rearing its ugly head. 

“Yeah, me too.”

“It was um...It was great to see you, Tay.”

“You too, darlin’.” 

He took another sip of his drink as he watched her walk away, and headed back to his table. Natalie put her hand on his shoulder as he sat down and leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“These people are boring, let’s get out of here.” She giggled and he kissed her sweetly on the forehead.

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“Who were you talking to over there?” she asked as she slipped her hand into his. 

He shrugged and gulped down the rest of his drink, glancing in Michelle’s direction. “Just an old friend,” he said.


End file.
